


tellin me lies

by clearvinyl



Series: all I need in this life of sin [2]
Category: Mayans M.C. (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Arguing, Biting, F/M, Fluff, Hair Pulling, Marking, Pain Kink, Rough Sex, Scratching, Sex without a Condom, Vaginal Sex, bruise mention, safety word mention, violence mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:07:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28747419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clearvinyl/pseuds/clearvinyl
Summary: there’s no ignoring your suspicions
Relationships: Obispo "Bishop" Losa/Reader
Series: all I need in this life of sin [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101962
Kudos: 11





	tellin me lies

**Author's Note:**

> outlaw!reader has a vulva and hair long enough to be pulled, is fem presenting/woman identifying, and implied to be late 20s/early 30s. everything else is ambiguous.
> 
> same universe as santa baby but that story is set during the end of season two and this one is set before the beginning of season two
> 
> also this is the second time a bishop story idea came out of nowhere and interrupted my coco wips. coco baby I can explain-
> 
> @challengeahellcat on tumblr

“Are you cheating on me?”

Bishop pauses in the door, apparently not expecting you to still be up at 4am.

Yes, you are ambushing him as soon as he comes home. Because lately, he's been distant in all ways possible.

You know the lifestyle can be unpredictable. You know he runs on Mayans MC time. But he used to tell you exactly why he was late, or had to leave town for a few days, or walked around like he had murder on his mind. Now you barely ever see him; and when you do, all you get is a vague 'Club shit, you know how it is.'

On top of that, he's been leaving the room to take calls _and_ he told you to stay away from the clubhouse because 'there's a new player and they had to be careful.' But they can still have those parties with women just waiting to ride a biker? Right.

You've tried to be patient and understanding, but there's no ignoring your suspicions. So you need answers for all the red flags. And if you don't get answers, not only are you going to jump to a conclusion, you're going to beat somebody's ass.

Bishop takes a deep breath and closes the door before running a hand down his face. “No, sweetheart. But I’m honestly not in the mood for this conversation right now.”

You cross your arms, widen your stance. You won’t be brushed off this time. “Well I’m not in the mood to be played with. I’m not stupid. Something's up and you need to be man enough to own up to it. Right now.”

“I told you it’s club shit. That's all there is to say.”

“Since when do we have secrets? I know your good, your bad, and your ugly. Just like you know mine. But suddenly there’s something you can’t talk to me about? Bullshit, Obispo.”

Hearing his government name makes his jaw clench and he says the next words through his teeth, “I get it, I do. But today has been a long fucking day and I need you to backoff for a fucking second.”

_Oh._

You’ve seen him pissed off and anticipated this confrontation getting heated, but actually having that controlled anger directed at you flips a switch. Your own anger turns cold.

He wants to be a lying, cheating, dismissive bastard? Fine. No longer your problem.

“Know what," you say with a forced calm, "have more than a fucking second.”

You storm past him, ignoring how he calls your name. In the bedroom you find a suitcase and start packing your shit - including his gifts to you. You'll be damned before some other bitch gets her hands on any of it.

You get one pile of clothes into the suitcase before he rips the second pile out your hands. "Listen to me."

"So now you wanna talk? Save it for your lil' hoe," you sneer as you try to move around him.

In a show of the strength that definitely played a part in why you first fucked him, Bishop picks you up and plops your ass on the dresser.

His big hand grabs the back of your neck and makes you look at him. " _Listen to me_ ," he commands. "I'm not cheating on you. I love you too fucking much to even think about anyone else. And I wouldn't dare disrespect you like that."

His loyalty and devotion - that you never thought you'd ever have to question - resonates in his voice. His eyes are unwavering as they look into yours. You wonder if he can see the emotions warring inside you; love and trust battling with the rage and doubt that have been creeping under your skin for weeks.

You don’t know what side you want to win, don’t know if you should believe or leave him. But you do know you’ve yearned for release and reassurance since this drama began, and impulse has you grabbing his collar to tug him in for a hard kiss.

He meets you with that same energy, his hold on you turning to iron as he pulls you close and devours you. It’s not long before clothes are torn off, driven by the need to have nothing between you.

Once it’s just your skin on his, he lifts you again to push you up against the wall. Your nails dig into his back and your legs wrap around his waist as he bites your bottom lip and closes all space between you.

"God, I miss you baby," he groans against your mouth.

That rekindles your anger, a bit of viciousness sparking out as you reach up and yank his head back by his hair. “I’m not the one who created distance.”

You watch his throat work, his nose flare. After a moment, he asks, “How do I fix this?”

You need to let out the hurt you kept bottled up. And you need him to know what that felt like. So you lean down to bite his neck, then his ear. “Fuck me. Hard. Rough,” you instruct.

Bishop immediately swings a hand back to land a firm spank on the side of your ass. The sting makes you buck against him and moan into his shoulder.

“Safe word?” he asks, then waits for you to recite it.

You pull back to look at him as you say, “Yours too.” His eyes darken in understanding, and after his lips form the word, there’s no further talking until hours later.

The pink and orange rays of the sunrise spill into the room as you lay on the bed with Bishop, your head on his chest while his fingers trace patterns up and down your back. There’s bite marks and scratches covering the both of you, bruises that will blossom into darker shades by the end of the day.

It’s quiet inside the room, but questions buzz around inside you. Fucking seemed to calm the rage, but the doubt is left behind with the love and trust to wonder where to go from here.

His voice breaks the silence first.

"I was wrong to make you feel like I'm not true to you. I'm sorry, baby. But this deal we're in - I'm not getting you involved in this. One wrong move and all of us - _you_ \- either end up tortured to death for intel or left to rot in prison for life."

Relief crashes over you like a wave, sweeping away the uncertainty. He was worried about you. He wasn’t lying, wasn’t moving on to someone else. This - you can work through this. "That possibility is the same for every other deal," you start.

He grunts in disagreement.

You raise up to meet his gaze. "Seriously. That's the risk all of us take with this outlaw shit. The risk I’ve been taking long before I ever met you. I'm not new to this Bishop, and leaving me in the dark isn't protecting me. It's setting me up to be a liability."

It’s clear he’s thinking it over so you continue, “I need to know what’s going on so I know what to look out for. So _I_ don’t make a wrong move. If we’re in this game together, I gotta see the whole board and all the players at the table. And the second I got involved with you was the second I got involved with everything you do. There’s no picking and choosing.”

He stares back at you then sighs and pulls you back down against his chest. "You're right,” he submits, “you're right."

"Yeah," you say like it's obvious, and his chuckle let’s you know that you two will be alright.

"I'll tell you everything, no secrets.”

"Like it always should be,” you say with a playful jab to his side. He winces dramatically like you wounded him and then you fall into a comfortable silence.

Your voice breaks it this time. “I'm sorry for coming at you like that."

His palm cups your jaw and tilts your head up. He kisses your forehead, your nose, and finally your lips. "I deserved it. But I'm surprised you thought I was cheating and didn't shoot off my balls just to watch me bleed out."

You laugh because that did honestly cross your mind. "Let this happen again and that's exactly what I'm gonna do."


End file.
